


The Spirit of Christmas

by Bremol



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremol/pseuds/Bremol
Summary: He's haunted the abandoned North wing of the York National Hospital six days every December for one hundred years...but now...fate may be about to change.





	1. December 18th

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is...the story I posted about on tumblr. I've taken a bit of a different approach with this one and written in days instead of chapters so this will go from December 18th to December 24th. It's a modern AU set in 2002. I got the idea from a movie of the same name that I watched on Netflix. I've changed things up to fit my characters because well...I didn't want to simply write the movie with my characters lol. This 'day' sets things up and is over 2000 words...so far all the parts are but I hope the story will hold your interest enough to overlook my verboseness lol.

 

 

 

 

Isobel Crawley rolled her eyes. “You astound me! How could you believe in such stuff and nonsense?”

“I’m not saying I believe in it!” Edward Williams huffed at her. “I’m saying that I can’t get anyone to contract to do the remodeling much less the other upgrades that the North wing needs to become a fully functioning part of the hospital. All of them are eager for the job until I say which wing it is. Their faces go pale and they stammer all over themselves coming up with excuses why they can’t take the job that they’d been so eager for only moments before.”

Walking to the windows, Isobel looked out over the grounds of the York National Hospital to the wing currently being discussed. “I want this wing. It’s been promised to me as a new Pediatrics with the most up to date equipment and treatments available. There are babies out there that would benefit from it. It would stop so many small lives from being lost because the families couldn’t get to London in time.” Turning around, Isobel stared at Edward. “I’ll prove the wing isn’t haunted by ghosts or anything else.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“The story is that it’s haunted from today to Christmas Eve, yes?”

“Yes. Six days every December.”

“Fine then. From now until the Christmas Eve Ball, I will stay in the wing. I’m sure there is an office I can occupy and I’ll move a cot in.”

“And what about heat?”

“The heat works on that wing, does it not?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s on, just not turned up. There’s always electric heaters as well. I’m a tough old broad, Mr. Williams, I can stand a little cold.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No. Those that won’t go near there are crazy for believing in ghosts.”

“Whatever you say. And if you’re proved wrong? If there is a ghost?”

“Then I’ll make them leave. I’m going to have that wing come hell or high waters.”

Edward stood up, mumbling, “May well be hell,” as he walked from the room. He’d heard about Isobel Crawley before he’d been sent to this hospital as the president. He’d thought dealing with her cousin, Violet Crawley, when he went to the Downton Cottage Hospital was difficult…but that was before meeting the woman he’d just left standing staring out the windows to the haunted North wing. It was no wonder the two women live as far apart as they do.

They’d kill each other.

 

~*~

 

“You’re going to do what?!” Elsie asked in a raised voice she quickly lowered when she realized people were staring. “Come with me into my office,” she hissed at Isobel as she grabbed her arm and drug her along behind her.

“Elsie Carson, let me go.” Isobel fussed as she tried to get her arm out of Elsie’s vice like grip.

Elsie ignored her friend until they’d reached her office and the door was closing behind them. “Now sit and explain to me just what in the world you were thinking,” she commanded as she shoved Isobel into the chair in front of her desk.

“I’ll thank you to stop shoving me about.” Isobel frowned at Elsie. “What is the matter with you? Surely you don’t believe all of that haunted nonsense.”

“I most certainly do.” Elsie told her as she sat in her own chair.

Isobel blinked in surprise at her friend’s answer. That was not what she expected. “What? You’re the most rational person I know besides your husband. Don’t tell me he believes,” she scoffed at the notion.

“No, he doesn’t.” Elsie sighed and sat back in her chair. “Isobel, I’m from the Highlands. While I’m not saying I’m a Highland witch, I _am_ saying that I do believe in spirits of the dead haunting places. Do you know anything about that wing? Anything about why it was closed and has stayed that way for,” she paused and looked at the calendar. “One hundred years?”

Isobel frowned. “It’s been closed since nineteen oh two?”

“Yes.” Elsie nodded then stood up and held out her hand. “Come on. There’s someone you need to talk to before you go through with this.”

“Who?”

“Charles. He knows the history of this place all the way back to its founders. I want you to know what happened in the North wing so that you’re prepared.”

“Prepared for what? The ghost? Elsie, I told you, I don’t believe in that.”

“And I told you, I do. Humor your friend will you?”

Isobel rolled her eyes. “Oh fine then,” she huffed as she stood up and followed Elsie out of her office. She couldn’t believe she was letting Elsie drag her to the damned basement offices just to hear a story about the ghost that supposedly haunts the North wing. “Utter rubbish,” she muttered.

“I heard that.” Elsie called back to her as she stopped at the lifts, pushing the down button and turning to glare at her friend. “Stop grumbling. The basement offices aren’t the dungeons.”

Wrinkling her nose at her friend, Isobel crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you sure you aren’t a damned witch?”

Elsie smirked and shrugged, the dinging of the lift arriving giving her good reason not to answer. Let Isobel stew in her thoughts. She’d learn soon enough that ghosts did exist.

 

~*~

 

Charles smiled at Elsie when he looked up and spotted her coming into his office. “Hello, Love. What brings you down to my domain?”

Elsie laughed. “I would think it would be more the pathologist’s domain, Darling.”

Charles winked at her. “We came to an agreement.”

“Oh? And what was that?”

“He keeps his _friends_ from going walk about.”

Elsie chuckled as she shook her head. It had been a running joke about the hospital that the morgue’s occupants often went walk about in the basement after a couple of bodies disappeared during a black out. They’d been found in Charles’ office, having been put there by Tom who was the resident prankster. “Well, that sort of brings me around to why I’m here,” she said then stepped out of the office and shoved Isobel inside. “I need you to tell this ridiculous woman the story of the North wing.”

Charles’ eyebrows shot up. “The North wing? Whatever for?” he boomed.

Isobel felt herself shake a bit in her shoes at the strength of Charles’ voice. “Heavens above, man,” she hissed. “No need to shout.”

“I wasn’t.” Charles scowled at her. “Now why do you need to know about the North wing?”

“Because I’m going to be staying there for the next twelve days.”

“Are you daft?” Charles boomed again making Isobel scowl and Elsie cough to cover the fact that she’d nearly snorted in laughter. This was going to be more entertaining than she thought.

“I’m not daft and I’ll thank you to stop that!” Isobel glared at the big man sitting behind a ridiculously large desk.

Charles looked at Elsie. “Are you encouraging this nonsense?” he asked.

“Of course not! You know what I think of that wing.”

Charles sighed as he nodded. “I do, and we’ll not be getting into that discussion again.”

Isobel looked from one to the other, finally settling on Charles. “Elsie said you don’t believe the haunted nonsense.”

“No. I don’t. Though I still think you’re daft. You can’t possibly think it a good idea to spend one day much less six in that place. It’s damp and musty and…”

“I’m staying.” Isobel interrupted with a glare. “Just tell me the bloody story. I have to go pack a few things at my flat.”

Charles huffed and looked at his wife, narrowing his eyes at the mirth he found reflected back at him. He’d have a go at her later for this mess. She was enjoying it entirely too much. “Fine then,” he grumbled as he turned his attention back to Isobel.

“And make it the short version.”

“I’ll tell the damn story how I see fit.” Charles growled. The woman was insufferable!

“Stop it!” Elsie shouted and frowned at the two. “Just tell her the story, Charles. She isn’t going to listen, but at least we can both say we tried.”

 

~*~

 

Isobel looked around the office she’d chosen to work from and live in until the hospital’s Christmas Eve Ball. It wasn’t in as bad a shape as she’d expected. As a matter of fact, most of what she’d seen of the North wing wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

Moving back out into the hall, she turned left and wondered about until she came into an open area. There was dust in some places, cobwebs in others, but the wood work still looked to be in wonderful condition. She snarled her nose as she looked up at the wallpaper. It was peeling now, of course, but it had never been a great wallpaper even when it was new. Tacky was the word that came to mind.

Continuing to roam, Isobel found herself standing at the foot of a dual staircase that led to another staircase, but it wasn’t the odd configuration of the stairs that caught her attention.

“Who are you?” she asked. “How did you get in here?”

Looking up at her, the stranger seemed to stare right through her. “Why are you here? You need to leave.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Isobel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I work in this hospital and I’ve never seen you about. I suggest if you’ve been living here, you vacate immediately before I call security.”

Glaring up at her, the man huffed then turned and walked away. “You’ll see,” he muttered as he walked through a wall. “You’ll leave before the night’s up.”

Isobel could hear muttering but as she raced down the stairs and followed the same path the man had followed, she couldn’t seem to find him. She could hear his footsteps, and his mumblings, but he was no where. It was as if he’d simply…she shook her head. “Oh no. You don’t believe in ghosts, Isobel Crawley.”

Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders and continued her exploration. Maybe she’d done enough with her threats to scare off the intruder. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a vagrant squatting in the wing and causing trouble.

 

~*~

 

“What the bloody hell?” Isobel hissed when she came back to her office hours later. All of her things were boxed up, the cot she’d had brought in, folded with the linens sitting neatly stacked on top of one of her bags. Pulling out her mobile, she dialed housekeeping’s office. She wanted to know just what they thought they were doing and why anyone was in this wing in the first place.

Ending the call a few moments later, she frowned as she looked around at her stuff once more. This was ridiculous. Housekeeping had insisted no one had been in this wing. Narrowing her eyes, she dialed another number. “Elsie Carson, is this your way of trying to scare me out of staying here?” she asked by way of greeting when her friend answered. “What do you mean you don’t know what I’m talking about? I came back to the office I chose as my space while I stay in the North wing and all of my things were packed up, the cot folded up and ready to roll out. You made it quite clear you don’t think I should be doing this, so I’m asking if you’re trying to make me think there’s a ghost.” Isobel listened to her friend curse at her in Gaelic and realized she’d really angered Elsie if she was slipping into her native language to do her cursing. “Fine then. And I better not find out it was your husband, either. Enough with this nonsense, Elsie. I don’t believe in ghosts, and that’s that.”

Ending the call, she huffed as she laid her mobile down on the desk and began to unpack her things once more. Whoever it was that was playing this game wouldn’t like the consequences if she found out who they were. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled to herself. She knew of no one that had any reason why she shouldn’t get this wing for the new Pediatrics center she’d been promised if she could find the space. Well, she’d found the space and no one and nothing was going to keep her from getting it.

“Not even some vagrant skulking about,” she grumbled as she made up the cot once more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. December 19th

“Put me down!” Isobel yelled as she beat her fists against the back of the man who had her slung over his shoulder, carrying her toward the doors of the North wing. “You big oaf, put me down!”

“I told you to leave. Did you not understand my intent when you returned and found your belongings packed?”

“That was you?” Isobel hissed. “How dare you!”

“You’re invading my space. I dare because you won’t listen.”

Isobel growled. Another bloody stubborn Scot. Before she could say anything else, she found herself being unceremoniously set on her bare feet on the cold stone entrance way, the door suddenly shut and locked in her face. Turning to look around her, she frowned when she realized it was raining and she had no coat, no shoes, and she was in her bleeding night dress.

Banging on the door, she yelled, knowing it was probably useless but continuing anyway because she was freezing and the anger and movement kept her warm. Her, “Let me in, damn it,” was garbled by a blanket flying out the open door and hitting her in the face before the sound of the door slamming and locking reverberated around her once again.

“Oh!” she groaned as she pulled the blanket around her. “Very nice. Too bad you didn’t think to throw my shoes out as well!” she yelled at the closed door. Sitting on an old marble flower box, she pondered what she should do. She was still in relatively good shape, and knew that she could make the sprint across the grounds without too much trouble if she were wearing shoes. But she wasn’t wearing shoes and it was still raining. She shrugged. “What else am I to do?”

 

~*~

 

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Isobel held up her hand to stop Elsie from saying something. “I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go back to the North wing and change into something warm and dry.”

Elsie followed her friend. She wasn’t going to let her just walk into the main lobby of the hospital drenched from head to foot without an explanation. Raising an eyebrow when Isobel scowled at her as she followed her into the lift, Elsie simply took her place across from her upset friend and waited for the lift doors to close. “What the bloody hell were you doing out in the pouring rain?”

“I wasn’t out there for my health!” Isobel shouted. “I was thrown out, if you must know. Picked up right out of my warm bed with nothing but my damn night dress to protect me from the elements and put outside.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t oh me. You and your spirits. You know there’s a vagrant living in the North wing, that’s why you didn’t want me to go there. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Vagrant? Now why would a friend of mine be staying in that old dusty place? And I know nothing of anyone save the spirit I told you about.”

“Spirits can’t pick people up and toss them over their shoulders like rag dolls.”

Elsie shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe this one can.”

Isobel narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about him? And don’t tell me he’s a spirit, I’m not falling for that claptrap.”

“By all that’s holy, I’m not feeding you a load of claptrap.” The lift bell dinged, signaling that they had reached their floor. “Can you get back in this way?”

“Unless he’s locked this entrance as well.”

“If he has, come to my office. I’ll call housekeeping to see if there’s another key.”

“Fine.” Isobel stepped off the lift and looked back at her friend. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten. I want an explanation.”

“I haven’t forgotten and believe me, you’ll get one.” Elsie told her, muttering, “Though it may not come exactly how you expect it to,” as the lift doors closed.

 

~*~

 

“Why are you back?”

Isobel startled at the voice and looked up from the paperwork she’d been filling out. “Where did you come from? Why didn’t I hear you?”

“I’m light on my feet.”

Isobel pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “Why won’t you leave?”

“Why won’t you?”

“Oh this is ridiculous.” Isobel slapped a hand against the desk as she stood up. “Who are you?”

“Richard.”

Isobel’s eyebrow quirked. “Richard? Just Richard? No last name?”

“Clarkson.”

“Oh come on now. Don’t think I’m going to fall for that old ghost story because I’m not.”

Richard shrugged. “Believe what you want. You asked my name, I told you. Now, leave.”

“Here we go again,” she sighed. “I can’t leave. If I leave, I can’t prove that there is nothing haunted about this wing. If I can’t prove there is no ghost, then I can’t put the new Pediatrics here. I,” her voice broke and she moved to look out the window.

Richard studied the woman who he’d thought nothing more than an annoyance since he’d spotted her moving in, softening a bit as he saw her reach up and wipe a tear from her cheek. “Who was it?” he finally asked, realizing that she’d lost a child, though he didn’t know if it was a patient or her own.

“My daughter.” Isobel whispered. “Her father was a doctor, I was a nurse…we should have been able to save her, but…” she bit her lip as her tears overwhelmed her. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “We rushed her here, but they didn’t have the necessary equipment needed to save her so they stabilized her and sent her on to London, but it was too late.” Turning to look at Richard, Isobel stared into his blue-grey eyes. “I’ve done my best in the years since to make sure we had what we needed, but we just don’t have the room to have a dedicated PEDS unit. We turn so many away, and can’t save some of the ones we do manage to take in. Do you know that I am one of only a handful of PEDS trained personnel in this whole hospital? And I don’t even practice anymore.”

“Doctor?”

Isobel nodded. “My daughter’s death made me realize we needed a PEDS doctor here so I went back to school and trained to be a Pediatric surgeon. A wreck a few years ago ended my practice.” She held up her hand so that he could see the scar that marred the palm and her wrist. “I can’t hold a scalpel anymore. I’m now an administrator. I’ve been fighting for a PEDS unit for years and thanks to a very generous anonymous donation, I’ve finally gotten the go ahead…but only if I could find adequate room. I brought the board’s attention to the North wing that has sat empty for years. All but one board member grumbled about it not being fit. The member that wasn’t amongst the grumblers was the one that said I had to prove the wing wasn’t haunted before anyone would even consider it.”

“I’ll do my best then.”

Isobel frowned. “Are you telling me that you’re a ghost?”

“I’m telling you that I shall do my best not to disturb anyone when I’m here. It shouldn’t be too hard. I’m only here six days a year.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“I can’t help that. Ask Elsie to show you Richard Clarkson,” he whispered then walked from the room, his footfalls fading as he slipped through a wall.

Isobel frowned as she rushed to look out into the hall. “Where did he go?” she mumbled then shook her head. This was ridiculous. “Elsie bloody Carson, I knew you were involved,” she muttered as she made up her mind to do just what the mystery man told her. “Richard Clarkson, indeed.”

 

~*~

 

“You lied to me.” Isobel accused as she walked into Elsie’s office and closed the door behind herself.

“What?” Elsie asked, completely confused. “And hello to you, too!” she frowned at her friend. “What’s gotten into you?”

Isobel plopped down in the chair in front of Elsie’s desk. “I’ve had a lousy night’s sleep and people keep telling me the place I’m spending the next few days in is haunted by a ghost. Speaking of…I finally have a name, though I’m sure he’s just telling me that to try and scare me off.”

“Richard talked to you?”

Isobel narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, Richard? Don’t _you_ go telling me that his name is Richard Clarkson.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Elsie Carson!”

Elsie smirked and shrugged. “Well you told me not to.”

Isobel rolled her eyes at her friend’s cheek. “He told me to ask you to show me Richard Clarkson.”

Elsie nodded. “So you explained what the wing means to you?”

“I did.”

“He’ll not give you trouble then.”

“Elsie, who is he?”

Elsie sat a scrapbook down in front of Isobel and pointed to an aged photo. “Richard Clarkson.”

Isobel gasped as she stared down into the likeness of the man she’d seen just fifteen minutes ago. “It can’t be.”

Elsie sat down next to her friend and rested a hand on her arm. “I know that you don’t believe in ghosts, that’s not how your mind works, but I promise you, it is him. He’s been trapped in that wing since his death on Christmas Eve in nineteen oh two. Every year on December eighteenth he appears and is there until the first strains of _I’ll Be Home for Christmas_ at the Christmas Eve Ball and then he’s gone until the next year. Of course the song hasn’t always been the same song, because I’m sure we don’t even play the song that was playing the night he died, I think it’s just the timing of when the song is played.”

“ _I’ll Be Home for Christmas_ is always the song the band plays before they take a break half way through the ball.”

“Yes. I’m guessing that’s when Richard was murdered in his own time.”

“And they really never learned who murdered him?”

“No. The way he was found, they weren’t even sure he was murdered for a while, but then they found a button under his body that wasn’t from his shirt. When they did the autopsy, there were bruises which proved he’d been in some sort of struggle.”

“Elsie, I know that the man I saw looks like this man.” Isobel pointed to the picture. “But it can’t possibly be him.”

“I assure you, it is.” Elsie reached out and clasped her friend’s hand. “Please, just give him a chance. Now that you’ve talked to him, told him what the wing means to you, he won’t be a bother. I don’t know that you’ll even see him again.”

“Elsie, how can he be a ghost? He picked me up and was as solid as any living man.”

“You’d be amazed at how wrong movies and television are about spirits.”

“And I suppose you’re going to tell me he can’t walk through walls.”

Elsie shook her head. “I’ll be doing nothing of the sort.”

“Elsie.” Isobel said her friend’s name, exasperation evident.

Shrugging her shoulders, Elsie stood and moved to put the scrapbook back on the shelf. “You’ll just have to see to believe, I suppose.”

 

~*~

 

Richard watched Isobel as she wandered about the place. She was lost in thought and he wondered if she was pondering what Elsie had told her or if she was thinking of her lost child. Seeing her stumble, he rushed toward her, reaching her just as an old vase fell from a shelf and hit her in the head sending her crashing to the floor, shattered glass all around her.

Kneeling next to her, Richard carefully lifted her in his arms, the blood on the floor worrying him. He had nothing here to tend to her and he couldn’t leave the wing to go after Elsie. Carrying Isobel back to her office, he laid her down on the cot then moved to her desk to see if anything there had a number for Elsie. Maybe he could figure out how to use the phone contraption.

As he was searching the desk, he heard footsteps heading toward the office and looked up then smiled when Elsie appeared in the doorway. “Oh thank goodness. I wasn’t having any luck finding a number for you.”

“What?” Elsie asked then noticed Isobel. “Izzie!” she said the nickname without thought as she rushed to where her friend lay motionless on the cot.

“She stumbled and a vase fell, hitting her on the head before shattering on the floor. I don’t have anything to tend to the wound and scratches.”

Elsie saw the blood on the pillow and looked up at her friend. “I’ll go get what you need.

Richard told her what he needed, knowing she would know the modern equivalents if they had changed from what he’d asked for. “How will you explain needing the supplies?”

“I won’t have to do much explaining. It’s likely no one will even notice me getting into the supply cupboard.” Elsie winked.

Richard raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bit sneaky.”

Elsie grinned then rushed out the door calling, “I’ll be right back,” over her shoulder as she went.

Shaking his head at the sound of Elsie’s footsteps turning into a run, Richard hoped she slowed down or her theory of not being noticed would go right out the window.


	3. December 20th

Isobel stirred then moaned at the pain in her head. “Oww.”

“Easy, don’t move.” Richard touched her hand to keep her from touching her head. “Do you remember what happened?”

Fully awake, Isobel noticed the sun shining in the window. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon. Now, answer my question. Do you remember what happened?”

Frowning as she concentrated, Isobel realized her mistake then let her face relax to ease the pain. “I stumbled and was trying to right myself. I think I might have bumped into a shelf.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“An old vase fell off the shelf and hit you on the head. You were out cold before you hit the floor. You had a nasty gash on the back of your head and a few scratches on your face and hands where the shattered glass cut you when you fell. Elsie brought me the things I needed to tend to you. I’m not sure who she went to for them, but she assured me I wouldn’t have a bunch of people hunting for me.”

“Ghost hunters.” Isobel muttered.

“Yes.” Richard nodded then held up his hand. “But we’re not having that argument again. I am what I am whether you believe or not. I’d rather spend the time getting to know you.”

“Why would you want to get to know me when I don’t believe you’re a ghost?”

“You get to know me at the same time. Think of it as a way to pass the time since you aren’t going to be moving about for a little while.”

“I can’t stay in bed all day.”

“You can if I say it’s what’s best for you, Doctor.”

Isobel rolled her eyes then moaned. “Ooh.”

“As I was saying…” he let the sentence hang.

“Oh shut up.”

“Would you like something to eat? And maybe something for that head of yours?”

“Yes, please.”

“Elsie should be here in a few minutes. She was here a few hours ago but you were still asleep so she said she’d be back at her lunch hour.” Hearing footsteps, he chuckled. “That should be her now.”

“I’ve come with food.”

“Enough for me?” Richard asked.

Elsie laughed and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Hungry Spirit.”

Richard shrugged. “It’s a long time between visits.”

“Ugh.” Isobel grunted. “Stop with the ghost nonsense. At least wait until I have a full stomach and get rid of this headache.”

Elsie stuck her tongue out at Isobel. “Someone is a grump this afternoon.”

“I have reason to be.” Isobel grumbled, returning the rude gesture.

Richard shook his head. “If that’s all the two of you are going to do, I’m going to leave and eat my lunch elsewhere.”

Elsie sighed as she sat the tray she carried down on the desk. “No, don’t go. I’ll play nice with the grump.”

Isobel sighed. “Can I at least sit up to eat?”

“If you think you can manage it.” Richard told her, making no move to help her.

Gingerly scooting herself into a sitting position she snarled at Richard. “Thank you for your wonderful bedside manner, Doctor.”

“You’re most welcome.”

“Stop it!” Elsie huffed and turned to the two of them, hands on her hips. “Richard, just walk through the damned wall or the desk already! That is the only way this ridiculous woman is going to believe you are what we say you are. Seeing your picture didn’t convince her.”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Oh for the love of,” he grumbled as he stood up, moving to the desk to get himself a sandwich. Taking a bite and humming his approval of the tender and juicy ham, he turned and looked at Isobel then moved backward, his lower half disappearing into the desk until he was on the other side, an annoyed look on his face. “I’m not doing anymore parlor tricks. She either believes or she doesn’t.” Looking at Elsie, he nodded to the bottle he assumed held pain medication. “Give her some of that. I’ve got things to do.”

“Elsie, what…”

Elsie jumped then turned and looked at the startled expression on her husband’s face. “Now Charlie,” she started but was cut off.

“What’s going on here?” he boomed.

Isobel winced. “Oh please,” she murmured, half begging due to the way his voice had felt like someone banging her aching head with a lead pipe.

Elsie laid a calming hand on her husband’s arm. “Easy, Charlie. Izzie’s been hurt and she’s not just being a spoilsport this time…your booming does really hurt her head.”

Charles took a closer look at Isobel and frowned. “I knew it was a bad idea for you to stay here,” he told her, his voice only half its normal strength. Turning his attention back to Elsie, he arched an eyebrow. “Now tell me what I saw.”

“What do you think you saw?”

“Elsie May Carson.”

“Charles Ernest Carson.”

Charles growled. “It looked like a man walking through a wall.”

“Well, since I know for a fact that your eyes are perfect unless you’re reading, then I guess it was a man walking through a wall.”

A chuckle sounded around them making Elsie lift a hand to hide a grin. “Richard, stop that and come back here.”

Richard was grinning as he walked through the wall back into the room. “Sorry, Elsie, but you know how I love a good laugh.”

Isobel was shaking her head, holding her brow as she did so. “It’s not possible.”

“No, it is not.” Charles scowled. “Now how did the two of you manage your little,” he started then got a good look at Richard. “Elsie, why does he look like Richard Clarkson?”

Richard shook his head and chuckled as he shrugged at Elsie’s sigh of frustration. “English,” he mumbled causing Elsie to laugh and Charles to splutter.

“Behave. Don’t make it worse by insulting the two of them.”

Giving her a wink, Richard shrugged his shoulders as he reached for another sandwich. “These are quite good, Elsie.”

“I’ll be sure to thank Beryl. She’ll be happy to know her favorite ghost enjoyed the food she sent.”

“Stop!” Charles yelled then looked at Isobel. “Sorry.”

Isobel sighed and shrugged. “I think we’re going to have to face facts, Charles. He is what they’re telling us he is. There’s no other way to explain…” she looked up just as Richard walked through the desk and sat down. “…that.”

“Sit down, Charlie.”

Charles, even if he’d wanted to argue, didn’t have much chance as his wife was shoving him into a chair. “I could have sat by myself, Elsie,” he grumbled at her.

“I know. I just didn’t trust you.”

Charles rolled his eyes then looked at Richard. “If you are Richard Clarkson, then tell me what happened on Christmas Eve in nineteen oh two.”

“I died.”

“We all know that. How did you die?”

“I was murdered.”

“We know that as well.”

“Tell us what you remember, Richard.” Elsie broke in before Charles could growl again.

“I remember a man coming in pleading for help. A Thomas Barrow. He was addicted to Opium from his time spent in the Orient. When he came back London it wasn’t as available. I promised to help him and then admitted him. He was dehydrated, gaunt, well…everything that goes with the addiction. I spent long nights sleeping in my office so that I would be here if he needed me. He was doing fairly well, or as well as could be expected, but then the night of the Ball…” Richard paused and frowned. “Most of the staff were at the Ball and he managed to get out of his room and find me. I was startled at the wild look in his eyes but I tried to talk to him anyway. He was hallucinating and demanding I give him the Opium that I’d promised him. He said that he knew I had it and accused me of keeping it even after he’d paid me. I told him I wasn’t that man, that I didn’t have his money or any Opium. I tried to get him to see that I was the man he’d come to for help, that I was his friend, but he wouldn’t listen. He became like a mad man and tried to get into the cabinet I kept medical supplies in. I rushed to stop him and he attacked me. I kept trying to tell him who I was, that I was trying to help him.” Stopping again, Richard’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never remembered this much before but…”

“It was him that murdered you?” Isobel whispered.

Richard shook his head. “No. We fought and he knocked me out. I was just coming to when I felt…” he rubbed a hand over his neck. “…the prick of a needle and then nothing. I don’t remember anything until I found myself standing in my office wondering what in the world had happened to all my things…why the office was so dusty.”

“By why just six days? Why not just the day you were murdered? That’s never made sense to me.” Elsie murmured.

“I don’t know. Why any day at all?” Richard asked then sighed.

Charles sat staring at the man sitting behind the desk. “I,” he started then shook his head. “I’ve heard it…I see you…but…”

“It’s okay, Charlie. Let yourself believe in spirits…just for Christmas.” Elsie smiled at her husband when he looked at her. “Do you think you can help us figure out who else was here that night?”

“The whole staff was.” Charles reminded her.

“I meant here in this wing instead of in the East wing in the ballroom.”

“I can do my best.”

Isobel sat staring at the man across from her. _Ghost_ , her snarky side reminded her causing her to roll her eyes at herself. “It’s impossible,” she murmured even though she’d told Charles they had to believe…her more rational side just couldn’t seem to.

“But it isn’t, Izzie.” Elsie smiled at her friend. “Can you be like Charlie and just believe for now? Let it be a miracle of Christmas?”

Isobel was caught up in Richard’s grey-blue eyes. She could see so much in the pale depths. “You’re tired,” she whispered.

Richard nodded. “It’s been a long one hundred years.”

“I’ll do what I can to help set you free of whatever it is that holds you here.”

 

~*~

 

Charles sneezed as dust from the books he was looking at worked its way up his nose. He’d managed to unearth the logs that were kept for payroll purposes back in nineteen oh two. The fact that they were still in the drawer of an old desk in the North wing had made him shake his head. He wasn’t sure just why they’d been left behind, but as there was no one to ask save the ghost of Richard Clarkson…he groaned.

“Ghosts. Bahumbug.”

“Are you turning into Ebenezer Scrooge, Darling?” Elsie chuckled as she came into his office and walked around his desk to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Elsie.” Charles mumbled then shoved his chair back and pulled her down onto his lap. “I’ve been looking at these logs but so far all I’ve found is a bunch of dust that’s made me sneeze.” He sneezed as if to prove his point.

“Oh Darling, I’m sorry.” Elsie nuzzled his ear.

“Elsie, he can’t possibly be…” he moaned when she nipped at his jaw. “Ghosts, Elsie! Ghosts!”

Elsie sat back and caressed the wayward curl from his forehead. “Aren’t you the one that is a fan of Dickens’ _A Christmas Carol_?”

“Yes, but…”

“Ah!” she hushed him with a finger over his lips. “I know you think it’s fiction, and it is, but this isn’t. There _are_ spirits, Charles. I’ve never lied to ye, have I?” she slipped into her brogue and watched his eyes darken, felt the shiver that went up his spine in reaction.

“That’s not fair, Lass.” Charles grumbled then tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her lips down to his.

“Mmm,” she hummed as they broke the kiss.

“And no, you’ve never lied to me.”

“Then just go with it. It’s Christmas time, Charlie. All sorts can happen at Christmas.”

Charles smiled at the twinkle in her eyes. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he caressed the soft skin with his thumb. “The most miraculous of things,” he whispered, his own eyes twinkling with the same memory. She’d agreed to marry him at Christmas time so many years ago, though it still felt like it was just yesterday.

“Thank you for helping my friend.”

“I’d do anything for you, Elsie. You know that.”

She nodded and snuggled closer. “I do.”

“How are things going for Isobel?”

“Richard hasn’t let her do much of anything. He’s sure she had a concussion and wants her to just rest. She’s not really liking that though.”

Charles chuckled as he took Elsie’s hand in his, his thumb gently caressing over her fingers. “I’m sure she isn’t. Did you notice the way they were looking at each other?”

“She saw the truth in his eyes. You heard what she whispered. And she’s right. He is tired. He just wants to rest.”

“We’ll do our best to help him, Lass.”

Elsie sighed, “I like that nickname…have I ever said?”

“Yes. You’ve even shown me how much,” he reminded in a low rumbling voice.

“Now who’s not playing fair.” Elsie muttered as she shivered. He knew what that did to her, especially when she was in his arms.

Charles smirked and patted her hip. “Turn about, Love.”

“Oh,” she huffed then pushed herself up. “I have a few things I need to finish before we leave for the night.”

Charles nodded. “I’ll finish going through this log then meet you in your office. I’ll leave the others for tomorrow.”

“Okay. And Charlie,” she started, pausing at the door.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Charles smiled. “Never as much as this old curmudgeon loves you.”


	4. December 21st

Isobel rubbed her eyes as she paused in her perusal of Elsie’s scrapbook. She’d asked Elsie why she had a scrapbook about a dead man and she’d explained that she’d gathered all the information she could over the years trying to solve the mystery of Richard’s murder. She hadn’t told Richard because she’d never been able to learn anything more than what was recorded in the official files.

As she stared down at the file, Isobel noticed a picture she’d overlooked before. Looking closer, she frowned. “Richard,” she called then looked at the wall he’d disappeared through earlier.

Richard walked through the door and chuckled, “I took the door this time.”

Isobel started then blushed at being caught watching the wall. “Make up your mind,” she mumbled.

Richard smirked. “What was it you wanted?”

Isobel motioned him over then pointed to the picture. “Who is she?”

Richard looked closer at the woman Isobel’s finger was pointed at. His eyes widened. “It can’t be.”

“Richard?”

“It can’t possibly be her,” he muttered and shook his head. “I would have known if she were here.”

“Richard, answer me. Who is she?”

“I have to go.”

Isobel watched as Richard walked through the desk and disappeared into the wall. “Richard!” she called after him, huffing when she realized he wasn’t coming back. Looking back at the picture, she studied the woman. “Who are you?” she whispered before pushing back her chair and grabbing the book. If Richard wouldn’t tell her, maybe Elsie would.

 

~*~

 

“I don’t know who it is, Isobel. I never noticed her before when looking at the picture.” Elsie shook her head.

“Do you have a magnifying glass?”

“I do,” she answered then pulled open a drawer and rummaged around a bit before taking the item out.

Isobel took the glass and held it over the photo. “I’ve seen her before,” she murmured.

“What?”

Isobel flipped a few pages back and pointed. “Here.”

Elsie frowned. “I don’t understand. Why have I never noticed her before? I’ve looked at this a thousand times over the years.”

Isobel shrugged. “I didn’t notice her until I took a break to rest my aching head and I’ve been through these pages at least three times already.”

“And Richard just walked away without telling you who she is?”

“He seemed upset when he saw her. He kept saying it couldn’t possibly be her.”

“He’s never mentioned anyone special in his life back then.” Elsie sighed. “Come on. Let’s go back to the North wing. I’ll make him tell us if I have to.”

Isobel stood up, the book clasped safely to her. “And how do you propose to do that? He’s a ghost.”

Elsie smirked. “You said he’s a ghost.”

“Oh shut up and go.” Isobel stuck her tongue out at her friend then shoved her toward the door. “You’re going to be impossible now.”

“Not impossible, just smug because I told you so.”

“It isn’t lady like to say I told you so.” Isobel informed her as they stepped into the lift.

Elsie laughed as she pushed the button for the floor they needed. “It’s a good thing I’m no lady.”

 

~*~

 

Charles’ eyebrows went up when he met Isobel and Elsie as they made their way to the entrance of the North wing. “What has the two of you in such a hurry?”

Elsie raised her own brows. “Why are you going to the North wing?”

“I wanted to ask Richard who this woman is.”

Elsie’s eyes widened when she looked at the picture her husband held up. “Isobel, look. It’s her again.”

Isobel frowned. “Where did she come from? Why are we just now seeing her? What in the world is going on?”

“What are you two fussing about?” Charles asked in confusion.

Elsie shook her head and took her husband’s hand. “Come along. I’m going to make that ghost talk one way or the other,” she mumbled.

Charles looked at Isobel over Elsie’s head as he was practically drug along with them. “How does she figure she’ll do that?” he whispered.

Isobel shrugged. “Highland witch,” she barely whispered earning her a half chuckle, half cough from Charles.

“I heard that.” Elsie said as she turned to glare at her friend.

“Heard what?” Isobel asked in all innocence.

Charles bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when Elsie looked up at him. “What?” he asked, his own face a mask of innocence.

Elsie rolled her eyes as they stopped at the North wing entrance. “You two stink at innocence,” she mumbled.

Isobel simply grinned as she reached into her pocket for the key. “Here. Open the door and hush.”

Charles shook his head. How these two stubborn women ever became friends, he’d never know, but he was glad his wife had Isobel in her life. “Come on the both you.” He tugged on Elsie’s hand and reached out to nudge Isobel. “We’ve got a ghost to find.”

 

~*~

 

Richard closed the book he’d been reading. How could he have missed it? Hearing a scream, he frowned. Shoving the small book in his pocket as he ran from the room, he listened for the sound again, hurrying a bit more when he heard the distinct booming of the man he’d only met just a day ago. What in the world was going on?

“Richard, that isn’t funny!” Elsie’s shout reached his ears making Richard move faster toward where the sounds were coming from.

Rounding a corner, Richard found his friends all staring into an empty office. “What’s going on?”

Elsie turned and scowled at him. “Richard, what is the meaning of this nonsense? I thought you promised not to cause a fuss with Isobel anymore.”

Richard frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Elsie. I was in my old office reading.”

Charles’ eyebrow twitched up. “That wasn’t you?”

“I don’t know what any of you are talking about.” Richard told the man as he moved to look into the office. “There’s nothing in there.”

“There was.” Isobel spoke up, her voice catching a bit before she cleared her throat.

“Well what was it?”

“A dark, shadowy figure with menacing eyes.” Elsie answered the question.

“Do I look like a dark, shadowy figure with menacing eyes?”

“You could make yourself be.” Isobel whispered. Her heart was still beating a little too fast after the shake up of whatever they’d just seen in the empty office.

Richard looked at Isobel and held her gaze. “I could, but I wouldn’t.”

Isobel felt same odd sensation she’d felt just yesterday when he’d stared at her like this. “Then who was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you?” Elsie asked. “Show him the photo, Charles.”

Charles held up the photo he’d brought along. “Who is she?”

Isobel opened the scrapbook to the last picture she and Elsie had found. “She’s everywhere, Richard. Tell us.”

Richard sighed and closed his eyes. “She was my wife.”

Elsie blinked in surprise. “Your wife?”

“Shall we go into Isobel’s office and discuss this?” Charles gently tugged on Elsie’s hand. “If what we saw wasn’t Richard…” he shrugged.

Elsie shivered and nodded. “Yes. I’d rather move away from here. I can still…” she shook her head. No sense giving Isobel anymore reason to think her a Highland witch.

 

~*~

 

“I don’t understand, Richard. There is nothing in any of the newspaper stories about a wife, or rather, widow.”

“Because,” Richard sighed and stared down at his hands. “I let her die.”

Elsie blinked in surprise. “What? Richard, make sense!”

“Easy, Lass. Let him tell us in his own way.” Charles whispered as he gently squeezed Elsie’s hand.

Isobel studied Richard. “Her family blamed you when you couldn’t save her,” she guessed.

“No. She did.”

Elsie looked at the picture lying on the desk. “Richard, are you saying that she was dead when these photos were taken?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. She died long before I came to England.”

“But Richard, that would mean,” Elsie started then shivered at the cold that suddenly filled the room. “Richard,” she whispered. “Was she…” she started but a loud crash startled them all and stopped her from asking the question.

“She’s here.” Richard looked up at Isobel. “You can’t stay here. She’ll harm you.”

“Why me?” Isobel asked in confusion.

“Because she sees you as a threat.” Elsie answered.

“None of you are safe here anymore.” Richard added as he stared off into the distance. “She’s angry.”

Charles felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck and shifted in his seat. “Elsie, maybe we should go for now.” He held up his hand when she turned and scowled at him. “Just for now. At least until we have a few more answers.”

“What was her name, Richard?”

“Mhairi.”

Elsie’s eyes widened. “But Richard that’s…didn’t you know?”

“Not until it was too late.”

Charles looked from one to the other then to Isobel seeing that she was as lost in this conversation as he was. “Explain to the English in the room, please?”

Elsie couldn’t help but smirk at that but then she turned serious again. “We need to leave now.” Standing up, she tugged at Charles’ hand. “I promise to explain as soon as we’re in your office.” Turning to Isobel, she motioned to her to follow. “You have to come too. You aren’t safe here now.”

Isobel frowned then looked at Richard. “I don’t understand. Why am I not safe?”

“Your name, Isobel. Your name.” Richard told her. “Go. Elsie will explain.”

 

~*~

 

Isobel shook her head. “She thinks I’m a witch because I happen to share my name with…with…” she spluttered and gave up.

“Yes.” Elsie nodded.

“But I’m not Scottish!” Isobel argued.

“She doesn’t know that.”

“Well hasn’t she heard Richard mumbling about Charles and I being English? She has been listening this whole time, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about her name? Richard’s wife that is. Why did you react the way you did?” Charles asked still feeling confused by what his wife had told them so far.

Elsie sighed as she looked down at her hands. “There’s a story that they tell in the Highlands of a woman named Mhairi. She was obstinate and led many to rebellion. It is said that she was…”

“Oh no.” Isobel groaned. “Not a bloody witch.”

“Yes. A Highland witch, one of the first or so the story goes.”

“Now Elsie,” Charles growled. “You aren’t going to try to tell us that Richard’s wife is one and the same woman!”

“Easy, Darling. No booming.” Elsie soothed. “And no, I’m not. I am going to tell you that it was said that any woman named Mhairi thereafter was a witch of low standards, evil and manipulative.”

“Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.” Isobel groaned. “Ghosts. Witches. What is this? Some sort of Shakespeare Dickens mashup?”

Charles couldn’t help but chuckle at that, remembering his and Elsie’s discussion about _A Christmas Carol_ just last evening. “It does seem like that.” He shrugged. “Or we’ve somehow found our way into that American television program, _The Twilight Zone_.”

Elsie shook her head. “Be that as it may, it’s the truth. That was the stories told to many a young child growing up in the Highlands.”

“If that’s so, why didn’t Richard know?” Isobel asked.

“Because only the very superstitious believed the stories. And there aren’t many who would name their child that, even if they aren’t a believer.”

“So what you’re telling us is…the stories were true.”

“At least in her case, yes.” Elsie nodded. “I think I’ve figured out why Richard has been appearing for six days every year since his death.”

Isobel breathed, “Mhairi.”

 

~*~

 

“Come out, Mhairi.” Richard commanded as he stood in his old office. “I know you’re here.”

“Hello, Richard,” she purred. “Miss me?”

“Hardly. Why are you here?”

“She’s here,” she hissed.

“Who? Elsie’s been here before.”

“Not that Scottish witch. The English one.”

“Elsie isn’t a witch. And Isobel? You’re mad, Mhairi. She isn’t a witch, either.”

“Her name says otherwise.” Mhairi argued.

“There’s nothing Scottish about Isobel. Her parents must have just simply liked the name.”

“She’s bewitched you.”

Richard shook his head. “No, she hasn’t. Why are you jealous of her and not Elsie? Elsie’s known I was here for years.”

Mhairi waved her hand in dismissal. “That witch has no power here. Besides, she’s married to that overgrown oaf.”

“You’re as ridiculous now as you were then. What have you done, Mhairi?” he asked then rolled his eyes when she disappeared, her wicked cackle echoing around him.


	5. December 22nd

Isobel hadn’t slept well the night before, worried that someone would learn she’d not spent the night in the North wing. If the wrong person found out she would lose the new PEDS unit she’d been promised and she couldn’t let that happen.

Which is why she found herself walking the halls of the North wing looking for Richard’s old office. Hearing movement, she sighed in relief at finally finding where he was. At least she hoped it was him. The last thing she wanted to do was have another run in with Mhairi.

Stopping just inside the door of Richard’s office, Isobel felt her cheeks heat as she watched Richard iron his shirt. With his shirt on the ironing board, and no vest, she could see the muscles of his chest and arms moving with each stroke of the iron across the white material and heaven help her…dear lord it had been so long since she’d seen a man as finely built as Richard Clark… _What the bloody hell, Isobel?_ she asked herself _. He’s dead. You’re lusting after a ghost!_

“What are you doing here?” Richard’s voice startled her.

Isobel gasped then took a breath to calm herself. “I was looking for you.”

“Well you found me.” Richard smirked at the blush he could still see on Isobel’s face. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

“But I had to come. If anyone outside of us finds out that I didn’t stay here last night…I’ll lose the PEDS unit. I can’t let that happen, Richard.”

Finished with his shirt, Richard pulled it on and buttoned it as he moved around the board and made his way over to Isobel. “I know, but _I_ can’t let Mhairi hurt you,” he whispered, his hand lifting to gently caress a stray tendril of hair from her face.

Isobel sighed at the touch of his hand to her face. How was it that it felt so real? So warm? “How do you feel so warm? Death isn’t warm.”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad that I do. I would hate to startle you with my cold hand.”

Flicking her eyes up to him, Isobel felt herself drowning once again in the pale depths of the sometimes blue-grey, sometimes grey-blue color of his gaze. Today it was the latter color. “Your eyes,” she breathed. “They change colors.”

Richard nodded, his thumb tracing her lips. “They always have.”

“Richard,” she said his name, wanting to pull away, but finding herself too lost in his eyes. “This is madness. You’re a ghost. How can I be…”

“Leave!”

Isobel jumped and stared at Richard wide-eyed. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she pulled away from him and looked about the room. “Is that her?” she whispered.

“He’s mine, you witch! You have no power here!”

Isobel frowned at the woman that suddenly appeared in the room. “I’m not a witch.”

“You’ve cast some spell over my husband. He’s mine.”

“I’ve done nothing. I’m not a witch!” Isobel shouted, frustration shoving her initial fear aside.

Mhairi narrowed her eyes as she started to move toward Isobel, stopping only when Richard’s arm shot out to block her path. “Protecting your lover?”

Richard shook his head. “She isn’t my lover. I didn’t have one when we were married, either, though you thought every woman that I spoke to had been in my bed.”

“Hadn’t they?”

“You’re as insane now as you were then.” Richard turned to block Isobel completely. “Leave Isobel alone. She’s done nothing to you.”

“Hasn’t she? I saw the two of you, the way she was looking at you. She’s more forward than the others.” Mhairi frowned. “She’s wearing men’s trousers. What sort of harlot is she?”

Isobel stepped out from behind Richard, her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a witch, nor am I a harlot. I’m wearing _women’s_ trousers. You’re in the twenty first century, not the nineteenth. Things have changed considerably since you were alive.”

“What makes you think I’m not alive?”

Isobel rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Walking through walls. Or maybe it was the just appearing out of nowhere that tipped me off.”

Richard had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Isobel was as high spirited as Elsie. “Mhairi,” he finally stepped in. “Why have you really come back?”

“I’ve told you.” Mhairi huffed then disappeared.

“Someone isn’t telling the truth.” Isobel murmured.

“I’m sorry for the things she said about you.” Richard said as he turned to face Isobel. “She was always very jealous. I couldn’t keep a nurse in my practice because she was always coming in and accusing them of…” he shrugged. “I didn’t.”

“I never thought that you did.” Isobel smiled up at him. She realized, as she found herself caught in his gaze once again, that looking at him had been a mistake. “Richard,” she breathed.

Reaching up, Richard cupped her face in his hand before leaning forward, his lips touching hers. It had been so long since he’d felt soft lips against his own, tasted the uniqueness of a woman’s kiss.

Isobel rested her hands against Richard’s chest, his kiss stealing her breath and making her lightheaded. She hadn’t been kissed like this in years. Sliding an arm up over his shoulder, she tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pressed her body closer to his.

A mad shriek broke them apart.

“Leave, Isobel. Go.” Richard urged her, a promise in his eyes that he’d fix this.

 

~*~

 

“You did what?” Elsie asked. “Isobel, we told you to stay away, that it was too dangerous for you there.”

“And since when do I listen?”

Elsie nodded her head. “True. But Izzie…”

Isobel chuckled. “You’ve called me that a few times this week. It’s been ages since you used that nickname.”

Elsie shrugged and smiled at her friend. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“He kissed me, Elsie.” Isobel whispered.

“And? How was it kissing a ghost?” Elsie smirked when Isobel stuck her tongue out at her, happiness twinkling in her eyes.

“It’s been a very long time since I was kissed like that.”

“You’ve dated since Reggie’s passing.” Elsie reminded.

“Dated, but you know that none of them were meaningful.”

Elsie rolled her eyes. “Especially that last one. Good heavens. I still haven’t quite figured out why you ever gave him the time of day. Dickie Grey was as boring as watching paint dry.” She shook her head. “No. I think I’d rather watch paint dry.”

Isobel laughed. “Now Elsie, he wasn’t that bad. He was just a little too enthusiastic about me. He wanted more than I did. And his sons…”

“Oh don’t even get me started on those wretched human beings.” Elsie growled, her blue eyes flashing with anger at the thought of the two men she’d never liked.

“Even if I’d loved the man as he professed to love me, I never could have continued a relationship with him after meeting his sons. Especially Larry.”

“I was never happier than the day I learned the lot of them had moved to America.”

Isobel laughed and nodded. “That was a happy day, indeed. I got rid of my constant shadow. I heard from Violet that Dickie married just a few short months ago. He found a lonely widow that was rich enough to appease his sons.”

“Bully for him.” Elsie rolled her eyes. Muttering, “Poor woman,” as she lifted the pot to refill her teacup.

“Maybe she truly loves him. I’m just glad he’s there and I’m here.”

“And you’ve found a much better Richard than that one.” Elsie winked. “Even if he is a ghost.”

“Elsie!” Isobel spluttered. “I can’t possibly,” she started then shook her head. “How the hell did I fall for a ghost?”

 

~*~

 

Charles rubbed his eyes and yawned, laying his glasses down on the books he’d been pouring over for the last hour. His work had been completed hours ago and he’d found himself going over the logs they’d found, looking for something he might have missed, and he’d found it.

How had they missed it before?

How had _he_ missed it in all the other times he’d looked through these?

She’d been here all along.

Mhairi.

Was she the one that murdered Richard?

If it were today’s world, it would be plausible that she might know what to use to kill someone, but in nineteen oh two? She’d have only had a chance to know if she’d been a nurse.

And Mhairi wasn’t a nurse.

“Charlie.” Elsie’s voice calling his name broke through his thoughts.

“What is it, Love?”

“Isobel went to the North wing this morning.”

“What? Doesn’t that woman ever listen?” Charles huffed.

“Why are you asking that when you already know the answer?” Elsie laughed as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“I don’t know. I guess I just expect her to finally realize she needs to listen once in the while.”

“Oh Darling.” Elsie smiled and shook her head. “At this point, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Charles sighed then smiled up at his wife. “I suppose it _is_ too much to hope for at this stage of our lives.”

“Nice way to say we’re too old to learn new tricks.”

Charles gave her a sheepish grin then stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go for some lunch and I’ll tell you what I just discovered.”

 

~*~

 

Isobel sat staring at the message scrawled on her desk. This was getting out of hand. “Mhairi, I’m not a witch!” she yelled.

“I saw you kissing him.”

“If you’re going to argue with me, I would appreciate seeing your face.”

Mhairi appeared in front of the desk and glared at Isobel. “I told you he was mine.”

“ _He_ kissed _me_.”

“What I saw was you kissing him.”

“This is ridiculous. If you’ve been here all of these years, and you’ve thought Richard was yours all this time, why have you only shown yourself this year?”

“Because this is the year the curse can be broken by another witch.”

Isobel rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not a witch.”

Mhairi shrugged her shoulders before turning and walking away, disappearing through a wall. “And yet, you’re the one working to break the curse,” filled the room after her.

“Good grief.” Isobel muttered, ducking with a shout as a book suddenly came flying out of no where, aimed straight for her head. “Mhairi! Enough!”

“Isobel?” Richard asked as he came rushing into her office. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She pointed at the book on the floor. “Mhairi was having a bit of a tantrum.”

“You’re lucky it was only a book.” Walking over to her desk, he gently tugged her up and into his arms. “Why are you still here? You know you’re not safe. She saw me kissing you and she’s very angry over it.”

Isobel sighed as she settled against Richard’s chest. “This is madness,” she murmured. “I’m standing here in the arms of a ghost, with another ghost threatening me…” pulling back she looked up at him. “Am I in some sort of Dickens novel?”

Richard chuckled and shook his head. “No. I’m real.” Caressing her cheek, he leaned forward and kissed her. “I think I’m falling for you, Isobel.”

“I think I’m falling, too. Though how I’m going to explain this to anyone outside of Elsie…”

“Don’t explain.” Richard kissed her again then looked down into her soft brown eyes. “I’ll be leaving in a few days.”

“I know. This is madness, Richard.”

“But a rather nice madness.”

Nodding, she sighed and settled back against his chest. “I’ll break your curse. Come time for you to go on Christmas Eve, you’ll be free to rest. I promise.”


	6. December 23rd

Together Charles and Elsie searched to find more information on Anna Smith, a young nurse that had worked in the hospital at the same time as Richard. Charles had explained to Elsie what he’d found, the discrepancies in the signatures of the young woman from the last time her name had appeared to the time it appeared in December just before Richard was murdered. Of course Elsie had told him that didn’t prove anything which led him to the next bit of information he’d learned.

“She left the hospital, Elsie. She was arrested for murder.”

Elsie blinked in surprise at that. “What? Who did she murder?”

“Supposedly she murdered the man that had,” Charles frowned. “From what I read she was attacked during a concert.”

“Oh heaven…” Elsie whispered, feeling sad for the young woman and what she’d been through. “How did you learn all of this, Charlie?”

“I have a friend who works at the local newspaper. I asked him to look through their archives to see what popped up for the hospital besides Richard’s murder.”

“And this poor girl’s arrest and trial was what popped up.”

“Yes. She never went to trial though. She just disappeared. From what my friend learned from a friend of his that’s collected all of the local stories over the years, she was secretly married to a man named John Bates. He was a guard at the jail. According to the local stories, he helped her escape and they disappeared. Some say they went to Ireland where he had family. That all happened before this,” Charles pointed to the entry that had caught his attention in the old logs. “The date is what caught my attention first. It’s the day before Richard was murdered. When I went back through the pages again to see if the name was there, that’s when I discovered the difference in the writing.”

“Do you think Mhairi used Anna’s name?”

“Now that we know about her,” Charles shrugged. “If I’m going to believe in ghosts for Christmas, then yes, I do.”

“And as a witch, she could conceivably have made people believe she was who she said she was.” Elsie frowned. “But Charlie, why would anyone have let Anna be here? They all surely knew she’d been arrested for murder and then gone missing. Someone would have reported her.”

Charles shrugged. “That’s where I got stuck as well.”

“I sense a but in there.”

Charles grinned and nodded. “My friend at the paper…he found another article. The week before Richard was murdered, a young man had come forward and confessed to the murder. His sister was one of this Mr. Green’s victims.”

“But why did he wait so long to confess?”

“Well, he’d been out of the country when the arrest was made. Once he came back and learned what happened, he went to the police.”

“So no one would have thought anything about Anna coming back to her job.”

“No. And the person in charge of the logs may have been different and not known the change in the writing.”

“But why would Mhairi use Anna’s name? She was a ghost, why would it have mattered?”

“Elsie, Mhairi is insane. Maybe she thought that they would think Anna had murdered Richard.”

“So you think Mhairi is the one that murdered Richard?”

“If it wasn’t the Barrow fellow, who else?”

Elsie sighed, “To be honest, I’ve felt it was Mhairi from the moment Richard told us about her. I just couldn’t figure out how she would have known what to put into a needle to kill him with.”

“I thought of that myself. Maybe she found a book? Or, if she truly is a witch…” he shrugged.

“Oh Charlie.” Elsie kissed his forehead. “You’re being such a good sport about all of this. I know it’s hard for you to believe. Thank you, Darling.”

“He’s your friend, Love.”

“He is, and I’m grateful to have a husband that will do anything to help me _and_ my friends.” Elsie stood and held out her hand. “Come on. We need to go find Richard and tell him what we’ve discovered.”

 

~*~

 

Richard looked up when he heard footsteps, sighing when Elsie and Charles came into Isobel’s office. “I don’t know where she is,” he whispered.

“What?” Elsie asked. “Mhairi?”

“No. Isobel. She was going to leave because she’d had a visit from Mhairi. She told me that Mhairi said that the reason she was here now was because it’s been one hundred years since I was murdered and another witch can break the curse.”

“And she’s still insisting that Isobel is a witch.” Elsie guessed.

“Yes.” Richard chuckled as he thought of Isobel’s arguing with Mhairi.

“What’s so funny?” Charles asked.

“You should have heard Isobel arguing with Mhairi.” Richard looked at Elsie. “She’s as fiery as you are.”

Elsie laughed and nodded. “Part of why we’re friends.”

Charles huffed, “Also part of why you argue so much.”

Elsie elbowed him as she looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “Hush.” Turning back to Richard, she studied the piece of paper he was fiddling with. “What is that?”

Richard held it up so Elsie and Charles could see what it said. “Mhairi has Isobel.”

Elsie’s face paled. “You don’t think she’s hurt her, do you?”

Richard shook his head. “I think they’re probably arguing.”

“Do you know where she took her?”

“No idea. I can’t leave this wing but Mhairi could possibly go anywhere since she doesn’t seem to be tied down like I am.”

“Maybe she’s just hiding Isobel to keep her away from Richard until after tomorrow evening. If she thinks Isobel can somehow break the curse, all she has to do is keep her away until it’s too late.” Charles suggested.

“I really hope you’re right.” Elsie whispered.

“We still need to find her.” Richard told them, not caring about himself just worried about Isobel.

Charles nodded. “You search places here that you think would be good places for hiding someone and Elsie and I will look in the rest of the building. I know a few good places to start.”

“Be careful.”

“Elsie can go and get Beryl so that she’s not searching alone.” Charles squeezed Elsie’s hand. “We know we can trust Beryl, and you know if you don’t let her in on what’s going on, she’ll have your head and Isobel’s when we find her.”

Elsie chuckled, “True. Okay. Be careful, Richard.”

“Why? I’m already dead. The woman saw to that when she murdered me.”

“You know?”

“You guessed?”

“That’s what we came here to tell you. She used the name of a nurse that had been arrested for murder and fled the country. But we’ll explain that later. We have to find Isobel.”

 

~*~

 

“Let me out, you lunatic!” Isobel shouted as she banged at the door. Her head hurt from Mhairi whacking her with something. “Mhairi! Let me out of here!” she yelled again.

“You’ll get out when it’s too late for you to use your powers to break the curse.”

“Oh not that again.”

“You are trying to break the curse, I heard you promise him.”

“Yes, I am, but that doesn’t make me a witch!”

“Only a witch can break a curse.”

“Let me out.”

Mhairi huffed. “No because you’ll only try to escape. You’re perfectly fine right there. I’ve got things to tend to.”

“You can’t leave me in here. These were made for…” Isobel stopped when she realized what Mhairi had in mind. “You don’t intend for me to live.”

“No, I don’t.”

“If I die, that gives me even more of a chance to be with Richard. Did you not think of that?” Isobel smirked when she heard the door opening and felt the metal slab she was laying on being pulled out. Sitting up, she swung her legs around and hoped down. “Thank you. Now, tell me what you did to him. It _was_ you that murdered him, wasn’t it?”

“So he’s finally remembered.”

“Richard has only remembered that he felt a needle prick at the back of his neck. He doesn’t remember anything after that.”

“I saw the way that young nurse flirted with him. Evil creature. She murdered a man and then just disappeared.”

“What?”

“Oh never mind. I used her name and snuck in. I was disappointed when no one even noticed or suspected her.”

“Why did you murder him?”

“Why not? This way he’s mine forever.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“He let me die. He saw an opportunity to get rid of me so that he could be with his nurse so he did nothing.”

“You know that isn’t true. He’s not that sort of man. If there was something he could do, he would have done it and you know that. He must have loved you to have married you. Or did you trick him? Use some sort of spell?”

“Richard didn’t know I was a witch until it was too late. Did he not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He was bound to me the moment he married me. Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have divorced me. I made sure of that.”

“So you cursed him the moment he married you.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why he’s stuck here?”

Mhairi laughed. “No. That was only so that he couldn’t leave me.”

“So why is he stuck here? Why does he only come back six days in December?”

“Oh that. Well, I might have cursed him to relive his last days.”

“But he doesn’t. He’s just simply stuck here. For six days every December and then he disappears until the next year.”

Mhairi shrugged. “It had been several years since I’d used a spell. I was rusty.”

Isobel rolled her eyes. “So you messed it up.”

“He still hasn’t been able to leave me.”

“But he hasn’t been with you, either.”

“Oh but he has. I’ve been here the whole time.”

“He didn’t know that you were. If you wanted him with you, why did you not show yourself to him after he died.”

“Because I didn’t want him with me.”

Isobel pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re insane. Completely insane.”

“He’s mine. I can do as I wish. No one can have him but me.”

“You sound like a spoiled child that doesn’t know how to share. Is that really what this is all about? You’ve cursed the man to come alive for six days of every December because you thought he was having an affair. Something he wouldn’t have been having even if he had been involved with the young woman. You were dead. He was free to see and be with whoever he wished to.”

“You do realize you can’t have him. He’ll be gone tomorrow and if you break the curse you’ll not ever see him again.”

“Don’t you realize that’s what love is? I want him to be free. He’s tired, Mhairi.”

“You love him?”

“I think I do. Even if I didn’t, I would still want to help him because that’s what caring about people is all about…helping them when they need it. What happened to you? Why did you die?”

Mhairi turned and stared at her hands. “I fell and was trampled by my horse. No one offered to help me.”

“But Richard tried.”

“Because he was the doctor. And I told you, he let me die.”

“No, Mhairi, he didn’t. You know deep down, Richard tried his best to save you.”

 

~*~

 

Richard frowned as he followed the sound of voices. It was Isobel. His eyes narrowed when he heard another familiar voice. Mhairi.

Continuing until he was standing outside the old morgue’s doors, he walked into the wall, moving about until he was where he couldn’t be seen but could see what was going on. Listening to what was being said, he frowned as he heard Mhairi once again accusing him of letting her die. Isobel tried to get Mhairi to admit that she knew he hadn’t.

“I didn’t, Mhairi.” Richard finally made himself known. “I loved you.”

“Even then?”

“No. Not then. I knew who you were. I still loved you even after I learned that, but then I found out what you were doing. If you loved me, why were you with him?”

“You mean you didn’t know who he was?” Mhairi laughed and shook her head. “Fool. Of course you loved me, I made you love me. I loved him.”

“I know that he was your lover.”

“Ah, but he was more than that. He was our leader.”

Richard shook his head. “If you loved him, why did you bewitch me?”

“I needed a regular mortal. That would be you. Besides, you had access to things I needed for my potions.”

“So I was always just a means to an end. Why did you murder me?”

“I was tired of watching you with all of those women. They were always throwing themselves at you.”

“But they weren’t. Mhairi, I was never with anyone after you died. Quite frankly, you burned me and made me wary of becoming involved with another woman.”

“But I saw them. And what about her?” Mhairi pointed at Isobel.

“You only saw what you wanted.” Richard looked at Isobel, his expression softening. “I’ve fallen in love with her. She’s made me see that not all women are like you.”

“Ha. Of course they aren’t. Though she does have something in common with me. She’s bewitched you just as I did.”

“No, she didn’t. I tried to get rid of her when I first met her.”

“And yet now you’re in love with her. That sounds like a spell to me.”

“No, Mhairi. It’s love. That’s all that it is. I’ve simply fallen in love.”


	7. December 24th

Richard sat staring at Mhairi. He’d convinced her to let Isobel go, promising that he’d stay. Isobel had argued with him, refusing to go which had led to him repeating his actions from the first morning after she’d spent the night here in the North wing.

That hadn’t gone over well, but Elsie had been making her way to the North wing and worked with him to keep Isobel from coming back.

_“Please, Isobel. Stay with Elsie. You’ve done your part. This wing will be your new Pediatric unit. I have to do this or she’ll hurt you. You’ll never be safe unless you go now and forget about me._

The tears in Isobel’s eyes had broke his heart because he knew he’d hurt her, but it was the only way he could think of saving the woman he’d fallen in love with.

“You’re thinking about her.” Mhairi accused.

“Of course I am. I hurt her, Mhairi. I’m not like you. I can’t hurt people and think nothing of it.”

“What do I care if she’s hurt? She’s the one that fell in love with my husband.”

“I’m not, Mhairi. That ended when you died.”

“No, it didn’t. You died and we were together again.”

“But we weren’t. And truthfully, we were never together when we were both alive.” Richard drug his hand over his face. “I forgive you, Mhairi.”

“Forgive me?”

“Yes. I could never forgive you when you were alive.”

“So you did let me die.”

“No, I didn’t. I could never just let someone die.”

“But you just said…”

“I said I could never forgive you while you were alive. I’m forgiving you now. I don’t want the anger and hate anymore. I’m tired of all of this. I just want a bit of peace. The curse is still with me, so I’ll not be able to rest, but I will have peace. That’s more than I’ve had for one hundred years.”

Mhairi stared at Richard. She didn’t understand. Why would he forgive her? “I don’t understand. I,” she bit her lip. “I murdered you.”

“I know that you did. I remember the smell of your perfume filling my nose just before I felt the prick of the needle in my neck. I knew then that it was you, I just forgot.”

“How can you forgive me for that?”

“Because I’ve learned how to forgive by learning to love.”

“Isobel.”

“Yes, but don’t blame her. I think I fell for her before she fell for me. I think it was when she told me about the daughter she lost. I could see the pain in her eyes when she looked at me.”

“You always were a soft hearted man.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Mhairi. Though I wasn’t soft hearted after I learned that you’d tricked me into marrying you, that you had a lover.”

“But you’ve changed. Even I can see that. You’re different.”

“That’s what love does, Mhairi. It changes you for the better. Have you never really known love?”

Mhairi felt a tear roll down her cheek. “Yes. You. I was a fool to do what I did.” Moving to stand in front of Richard, she reached out and caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Richard reached up and covered her hand with his. “Can you rest now?”

“Yes. Go. Find Isobel. You’re free of this place, Richard.”

Richard watched Mhairi disappear then hurried to his office. He had to be presentable when he showed up at the Ball. He frowned as he looked down at himself. He definitely wasn’t dressed properly.

“Charles,” he mumbled. The man could help him he was sure.

 

~*~

 

“Elsie, I don’t want to go.” Isobel grumbled as she was handed yet another dress. She’d been so busy with the things going on in the North wing of the hospital that she’d completely forgotten to go and shop for a dress for the Ball. So now she was shopping with Elsie and Beryl, though Beryl had wondered off into a kitchen store they’d passed on the way to the dress shop.

Elsie handed Isobel another dress and frowned at her friend. “You have to go. The board is going to announce your success. How would we explain why you’re not there? “Oh, she’s not here. She’s upset that she lost the ghost she fell in love with.” That would go over really well with the stodgy board.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. You could simply say that I’m a bit under the weather.”

“And how do we explain that had nothing to do with you staying in the North wing? You know that’s what they’ll assume.”

“Ugh.” Isobel growled. “Don’t you think this is enough?” she asked when Elsie handed her yet another dress.

“Yes. Now let’s go.” Elsie shoved Isobel in the direction of the dressing rooms. “I want to see all of them.”

“Elsie! We don’t have time for me to try them all on.”

“All of them.” Elsie reiterated as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared Isobel down.

Isobel growled again as she chose a dressing room and closed the door. “You’re a right royal pain in the…”

“Ah.” Beryl scolded. She’d found the two just in time to hear Isobel. “Is that any way for a lady to talk?” she asked, looking at Elsie and smirking when Isobel grumbled a curse under her breath. “I heard that.”

“Oh shut up!”

Elsie chuckled and shook her head. “She’s been a bit testy since Richard sent her away,” she whispered.

“I still can’t believe she fell in love with the ghosty.”

“Oh don’t call him that.”

“I’ve called him that before.”

“I know, but things are different now. Richard is different now.” Elsie smiled when Isobel stepped out then snarled her nose. “No.”

“Well don’t snarl at me. _You_ picked it out.”

“Go try another one on.”

Beryl laughed when Isobel stuck her tongue out at Elsie just before disappearing back into the dressing room. “She might be a bit testy, but she’s also more playful that she’s been in years. How long as it been since she’s stuck her tongue out at you?”

“Oh, a couple of days.” Elsie laughed then scowled when Beryl elbowed her. “What? You asked, I answered.”

“You know what I meant, Elsie Carson.”

“I do. It’s been a long time. Of course it’s been a long time since she was in love.”

“Reggie.”

“Yes. Losing Lilly changed them both. Then Reggie died and she was just lost.” Elsie whispered.

Beryl snarled her nose and poked Elsie in the arm when Isobel came out of the dressing room, cutting off what she’d been about to say to Elsie. “No. Elsie, what were you thinking?”

“What? It’s not that bad.”

“Yes. It. Is.”

Isobel huffed and went back into the dressing room. She was not in the mood for this. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in her bed and cry. Didn’t she deserve that? She’d fallen in love again and made a promise. A promise she wasn’t going to get to keep on top of missing out on the extra time she could have been spending with Richard before he disappeared for another year.

 

~*~

 

Charles held Elsie close as he swirled her around the dance floor, her dress swishing about her legs as they moved. “Have I told you how beautiful you are in that dress?”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “You have, Charlie. I seem to recall you showing me and making us late,” she whispered, a smirk playing about her lips.

Charles gave her a sheepish smile as he waggled his eyebrows. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault? And how do you figure that, Mr. Carson?”

“This dress. You put it on.”

Elsie laughed and shook her head at him before kissing the underside of his jaw. “Daft man.”

“Not daft, just in love.”

Elsie snuggled against his chest, watching the others as they moved about the dance floor. “I don’t see Isobel.”

“I haven’t see Matthew and Mary yet. Maybe Isobel will come in with them. You know she doesn’t like arriving to these things alone.”

“I do. And arriving alone this year would only have made her feel worse than she already does.” Sighing, Elsie continued to look about, an eyebrow raising when she spotted a familiar figure. “Charlie,” she breathed as she stopped moving.

“Yes, Love, it’s him.”

Looking up at her husband, Elsie arched an eyebrow. “Charles, what’s going on? How,” she looked back to see Richard moving toward the entrance.

“He’s free from the North wing now. Mhairi let him go. He came to me and asked me to help him dress appropriately for the Ball.” Placing his finger over her mouth, Charles stopped Elsie from asking any more questions. “I’ll explain all that I know later. For now…” he turned her. “…watch.”

 

~*~

 

“Matthew, thank you for letting me tag along with the two of you tonight.” Isobel squeezed her son’s arm.

Matthew pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “You know that I’ll always be your escort.”

Patting his cheek, Isobel kissed him then let go of his arm. “Go along now. I’m sure Mary is anxious to dance and get on with the party.”

“Mother,” Matthew started, stopping when Isobel squeezed his arm and shook her head.

“No arguments. I’ll be fine. Go on.”

Matthew nodded then went along with Mary, frowning when he caught her rolling her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“She’s a grown woman, Matthew.”

“And she’s my mother, Mary. One day you might find yourself in her shoes and I would hope that my son loved you enough to always be your escort.” Matthew’s tone held a note of scolding in it. His wife was infuriating at times.

Movement drew his attention away from Mary and he turned in time to see a distinguished looking man walking toward his mother. Matthew had never seen the man before, but looking at his mother, he could tell by the look on her face that she had. The tears that spilled down her cheeks had him hurrying toward where his mother was, only to stop as she nearly leapt into the arms of the stranger.

Evidently, his mother had neglected to tell him something very important.

 

~*~

 

“Richard.” Isobel breathed when she caught sight of him. Her heart was racing as she realized the implications of his being here, what his presence outside the North wing meant.

Richard smiled, his eyes that odd blue-grey that intrigued the woman he was staring at. “Isobel,” he whispered, his arms open as he caught her and held her close. “You did it,” he told her, his breath warm against her ear.

Isobel, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, held him as close as was possible. “How? I don’t understand.”

Pulling back, Richard caressed her cheek. “You fell in love with me and with your love I learned how to forgive.”

“And that’s all it took?” Isobel asked, her hands busy tracing his face to make sure he was really there. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” she whispered.

Richard chuckled and shook his head. “No, Love, but…” he nodded in the direction of the young man making his way toward them. “…am I going to be in trouble?”

Isobel looked in the direction Richard had nodded and blushed then laughed and shook her head. “No. That’s my son. He’s a mama’s boy and very protective of me. He doesn’t know who you are so he’s coming to find out. You’ll be alright because he can see I’m happy. I rather think I’ll be the one in trouble for not telling him about you.”

Richard laughed before moving away from her, his hand resting on the small of her back. “I hope you’re right. I don’t relish trying to explain why his fist didn’t quite meet my face.”

Isobel nearly choked then laughed and shook her head. “I don’t want to have to explain that, either.”

Matthew stopped and stared at Richard then looked at his mother with a raised eye brow. “Mother?”

Isobel reached out and caressed Matthew’s cheek. “It’s alright, Darling. This is Richard. We’ve sort of been seeing each other. I thought he had to leave so I was a bit surprised to see him here tonight.”

“So he’s why you were so sad, why you didn’t want to come tonight.”

“Yes. Now, I promise that I will explain everything later, but for now, I’m safe.”

“Alright.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I love you, you know that.”

“I do, my darling boy. Go on now.” Isobel shooed him away, a smile on her face.

“He loves you very much.” Richard whispered.

“He’s all I had after Reggie died. Matthew was our miracle.”

“So he came after your daughter.” Richard guessed.

Isobel nodded. “Yes. I had just started here as a doctor when I found myself pregnant. We were shocked because of my age, but both of us were overjoyed. I’m afraid we over indulged him.”

“He seems to be a well rounded young man to me.”

“Enough about him.” Isobel tugged at Richard’s hand. “Dance with me.”

“Gladly.” Richard lifted her hand and placed a kiss to the back before leading her out to the dance floor and pulling her close.

Isobel sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. “They’re staring. The oft aloof Dr. Crawley is dancing very closely with a man none of them knew she was seeing.”

“Aloof, my darling? You?”

“I can be. Or, I could be before I met a Scottish ghost and fell in love,” she whispered.

“Shh, Love. No thinking about that. Just dance with me.”

“But Richard, when this song ends…”

“Shh.” Richard hushed her. “I know. Will you wait for me?”

Isobel felt her eyes filling as she moved back a bit so that she could look at him. Caressing his cheek, she felt the tears spill over as she nodded. “Yes. Next December eighteenth I’ll be waiting where we first met.”

Hearing the song change, Richard stopped dancing and held her hand. “Will you walk with me? I don’t want to say goodbye here.”

Isobel could only nod and follow Richard as he led her out of the ballroom. She wasn’t sure where he was going until they stepped through the French doors that led into the hospital’s arboretum. She’d always loved this spot, it had been a place she’d gone to over the years to think and gain peace when things were chaotic. How had he known?

“Isobel?” Richard whispered when he turned to find her lost in thought.

“Sorry. Just thinking. I love this place. How did you know?”

“I didn’t. It was always my favorite place. I was fascinated with the outside being in as I’d never seen anything such as this before I came here.” Richard sighed as he pulled her close. “I wanted to say goodbye somewhere quiet.”

Isobel nodded, suddenly unable to speak, tears clogging her throat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face against his shoulder. She didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want to lose the love she’d found and had so little time with.

“Shh. You’ll see me again. You said you’d be waiting for me where we first met, but why don’t we meet here instead. That way I can kiss you.” Richard smiled when Isobel lifted her head and smiled at him. “I love you, Isobel,” he whispered as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

Lips trembling, Isobel traced his face with a finger. “I love you, my darling ghost.”

Richard smiled and winked at her before pulling her closer and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was tender, filled with all the love he had, hoping that he could give her enough to last a year.

Isobel bit her lip when Richard pulled back. “I hate this,” she whispered.

“I do too.” Richard stepped away. His eyes never left hers as he backed away, losing his hold on her hand then slowly disappearing through the wall.

“I’ll be missing you and waiting very impatiently to see you again,” she whispered before sitting on a bench behind her.

“Mother?” Matthew whispered as he knelt down beside her. “Hey, what is it?”

Isobel shook her head. “He’s gone. My spirit of Christmas is gone.”


	8. Epilogue - December 25th, 2003

Isobel yawned and stretched then opened her eyes when her hands found an empty bed. She’d been dreaming again. Sighing, she flung the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She didn’t really want to get up, but she had things to do before her company arrived.

Padding into the bathroom, she opened the shower door and turned on the water. Looking over at the bath tub she shrugged. A bath was usually what she preferred but today she didn’t have time.

While the water heated to her preferred temp, she moved to look at herself in the mirror. The face that stared back at her wasn’t the same face that had met her every morning for the last few years. She shrugged. Being in love had made her look younger, at least to herself. Meeting Richard last year, though they hadn’t gotten along at first, had changed her. She’d been lonely and not really realized it. She didn’t need a man to survive, she’d proved that by making something of herself even after she’d married Reggie. She had friends that had given up their careers when they married, but she’d continued with her schooling, finishing and working alongside Reggie only a year before she fell pregnant with Lilly. Even pregnancy hadn’t stopped her until she’d been eight months and Reggie had asked her, not commanded…but asked her to take the time off until the baby was at least four months old. She’d loved him even more for asking and had easily done as he asked, adding her own condition that it be six months not four. After that, it was going back to school to be a doctor, and then it was not just simply wilting when Reggie died.

She was a strong woman who could do anything she set her mind to.

But…

She was a _woman_ and as such she craved the touch of a man. She didn’t even blush at the thought. Why should she? She was old enough to know her own mind, and body, and she wanted… _craved_ …the touch of strong hands gliding over her skin, muscular arms holding her tight as warm lips tried to steal her breath with sensuous kisses.

Shaking herself, she looked in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. “Isobel Anne!” she scoffed at herself. “Such thoughts!” She turned from the mirror and hurriedly stepped into the shower, closing the door behind her and stepping under the spray of water, hoping that her shower would help her get her thoughts back to what she was supposed to be doing today.

She had guests coming later, she had much too much to do to stand around thinking about sex.

“And at your age!” she muttered then caught her breath in a gasp when warm hands slid around her waist followed by arms that drew her back against a muscular chest. “Mmm,” she hummed when the hands moved up to cup her breasts, fingers rolling the sensitive tips between them.

“Good morning,” his breath was hot against her ear. “I brought you breakfast in bed and found the bed empty. I hope you don’t mind me invading your shower.”

“Ooh, no.” She turned in his arms and smiled. “Good morning, Richard.” Letting her head rest against his shoulder, she sighed at the feel of his hands moving over her water slickened body. He was good with those hands. _Very good_ , her mind pointed out.

Richard frowned. Something was off. “Lass, what is it? Did you have that dream again?” he asked, his hands still moving over her body.

Isobel nodded and wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Yes.”

“And then you woke up and I wasn’t there. I’m sorry, Darling.” Moving away a bit, he tilted her face up. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Remember?” he asked, a smile making his eyes sparkle.

Isobel returned the smile as she nodded. “I do. I still can’t believe that you just showed up on Christmas Day last year.”

“Well, it was actually Christmas Eve when I showed up, but you were already sleeping so I decided to wait.”

“I wouldn’t have minded you waking me.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have found me sitting on your sofa because I couldn’t fit myself under the tree or in your stocking.” He winked at her, smiling when she chuckled.

“True,” she nodded. “And I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy what you did with my stocking later.”

Richard raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye. “Took it off as I kissed the sweet skin it covered,” he voiced the memory.

“Richard,” she breathed. Letting him turn her around, she moaned as he pressed their lower bodies tightly together. Her head falling back against his shoulder, she moved her arms around behind him, her hands cupping his firm buttocks as he kissed and suckled lightly on the smooth skin of her neck while his hands were busy arousing her further by cupping and kneading her breasts.

Richard loved how responsive Isobel was. He’d not had a lover since he’d been married. Women had definitely changed sexually. The women of his time were always being treated for melancholia because they didn’t know, or understand, the workings of their own bodies…nor did the men they were married to. But this woman…dear heavens above. She was glorious. The sounds she was making did things to him that he couldn’t even begin to explain, though he was sure she could feel their effects where their bodies were pressed together.

Isobel covered Richard’s hand with hers, moving them over her stomach and between her parted thighs. Humming as he moved his fingers nimbly over her aroused flesh, she smiled at the knowledge she knew he possessed of a woman’s body and how to arouse her fully and give her the greatest pleasure. She was definitely a willing recipient of the treatment for melancholia. That thought made her chuckle then moan when she felt a sure and steady finger slowly enter her.

“What’s funny? Was that ticklish?” Richard questioned as he repeated the action.

Isobel shook her head. “No…ooh…I was just thinking that I’m very glad to be on the receiving end of your treatment for melancholia.”

Richard laughed then nipped at her neck. “Oh the cheek!”

Isobel smiled as she turned to look at him. “I love you,” she whispered.

Turning his head so that he could kiss her, Richard returned her smile. “I love you,” he whispered then began to move his fingers over her once again, watching as her eyes darkened with pleasure before sliding shut as a moan escaped her parted lips. Continuing his movements until she was crying out his name, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his buttocks, he paused to just watch her, reveling in the flush of her skin that he knew wasn’t from the heat of the water but from her arousal, from the pleasure he’d brought her.

Isobel sagged against Richard, thankful that his arms were strong enough to hold up her seemingly boneless body. “Mmm,” she hummed as her eyes slowly fluttered open. “I like these sorts of showers.”

Richard chuckled then kissed her. “I do too.” He shrugged. “I must admit, I wasn’t sure about this shower contraption when you first introduced it to me.”

“There were a lot of things you were unsure of.”

“Yes, but you’ve been a wonderful teacher. I do believe I can pass myself off as a man of this century quite well now.”

“After a year of learning, you most certainly can.” Squirming against him, Isobel looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I want more,” she whispered.

Turning her and pushing her back against the shower wall, Richard gave her a heated look when she lifted her leg and draped it over his thigh, opening her body and inviting him in. Groaning when her hand moved down between them to guide him in, he let his forehead bump against hers. She was everything he’d never realized he wanted or needed in a woman.

 

~*~

 

Isobel straightened Richard’s bow tie then stepped back to take him in. He was gorgeous in a tux. She’d have to watch herself or she’d get lost in the same sort of thoughts that she’d found herself lost in this morning, though she had to admit, she wouldn’t mind a repeat of what followed those thoughts.

“Darling, our guests will know what you’re thinking of if you don’t stop that.” Richard teased her.

Isobel huffed and gently smacked his chest. “Behave.” Kissing him, she pulled back and smiled. “You look very dashing.”

Looking her over, Richard leaned over and pressed a kiss to her neck. “You look delectable,” he murmured then nipped at the soft flesh again.

“Ooh, you have to stop that. Or the guests won’t have to guess what I’m thinking, they’ll see.”

Richard laughed and squeezed her close then released her just as the doorbell rang. “Perfect timing.”

“That’ll be Charles and Elsie. Charles is always early for everything.” Isobel rolled her eyes. “Elsie fusses at him, but it does no good. It’s great for things at the hospital…”

“But not so great for parties.” Richard caressed her cheek. “We’ll put him to work as bartender.”

Isobel laughed as they hurried down the stairs. “Coming!” she called when the doorbell rang again.

 

~*~

 

“Isobel you’re fairly glowing.” Elsie whispered as she followed her friend into the kitchen. “I’ve seen the change in you over the last year, but tonight it just seems to be bubbling up and out.”

Isobel smiled at her friend. “He’s amazing, Elsie. This past year he’s had a lot to learn to bring him into this century, but it’s been worth it. I was lost when he said goodbye last Christmas Eve. Matthew was confused because a man had shown up that had made me happy then disappeared making me even more sad that I had been.” She laughed and shook her head. “He was even more confused when he showed up on Christmas morning and that same man opened the door.”

Elsie laughed with her friend. “And how did Matthew take it when you explained who Richard is?”

“I haven’t explained anything to Matthew. Those of us that knew of Richard in the North wing, are still the only ones that know who he truly is.”

Elsie nodded. “Probably a wise decision.”

“We’d better get back out there or Beryl will come looking for us and accuse us of messing about with her dinner.”

“She would at that.”

“Elsie?” Isobel caught Elsie’s arm just before she opened the door.

“Yes.”

“Do you really think…” Isobel paused then fidgeted with her bracelet. “Do you really think this will work?”

Elsie stopped and turned to look back at her friend. “Yes, I do. I’ve not done anything such as this in more years than you really want to know, but I’m sure. It was written down by my great grandmother so I know it will work.”

“I’m sorry to question. It’s just…you’re the only witch I know,” she added quietly.

“Shh. None of that.” Elsie hushed her with a wink. Once she’d known Richard hadn’t disappeared as they’d thought on Christmas Eve, she had asked if he wanted to be mortal again. Richard and Isobel had discussed it and when they’d finally given her an answer, she’d set about in her research, finally coming across what she needed only a few short weeks ago.

“Not a word.” Isobel smiled then frowned a bit as a thought crossed her mind. “Only…does Charles know?”

“Yes. He’s always known, though I have never known if he fully believes it or not.”

“But what about Mhairi?”

“She knew but she couldn’t do anything.” Elsie shrugged. “No sense going into that.” She frowned. “How did we get off on this? No more ghosts and witches. It’s Christmas.” She winked. “And you’re getting married.”

“That’s how we got into that.” Isobel pointed out then smiled. “How did Charles arrange that? How do you get a license with no birth certificate?”

“Well, Richard has a birth certificate. It’s just been _fixed_.”

Isobel laughed and hugged Elsie. “Thank you. It’s means the world to both of us. I want to show him what being in a relationship is supposed to be like.”

Elsie squeezed Isobel then pulled back and held her hands. “Izzie, you’ve already shown him just by loving him. This marriage is nothing more than a means to an end…he’ll be mortal again the moment he kisses his newly pronounced wife.”

 

~*~

 

Matthew watched his mother as she danced with the man that was now his step-father. The wedding had been a surprise, so had the person performing the ceremony. He rolled his eyes. It was true what they said…you could do anything with the internet. But Charles Carson taking the easy way to something? He’d known the man all of his life and…he shook his head. Elsie must have talked him into it. The woman could talk her husband into anything.

Hearing his mother’s laughter brought him out of his thoughts about Elsie and Charles and drew his attention back to the couple slow dancing in the light of the fire. His mother was happy, happier than he’d seen her in years. She’d missed having a partner in life after his father had died, though she hadn’t fallen apart, she _had_ sort of stopped living. He knew that she’d hidden her grief to help him with his own. He’d heard her crying at night when she thought he was asleep. His mother was the strongest woman he’d ever known and he was happy that she’d found someone to love and be happy with.

Turning when Mary came up beside him, he kissed her temple. “She’s happy and has completely forgotten we’re here. Let’s go home.”

Mary shrugged. “Fine. I’m tired anyway. Are you ever going to explain where he came from?”

Matthew followed his wife out, helping her into her coat. “Does it matter where he came from? He loves her and Elsie has known him for years. If Elsie trusts him, and my mother trusts him, I’m fine with not ever knowing anything more than that he loves my mother.”

 

~*~

 

Elsie sighed as she snuggled close to the warm body of her husband. “Mmm, Charlie,” she hummed when his hand skimmed over her hip. “Thank you for helping them tonight. I know how you felt about ordaining yourself over the internet.” She giggled then pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “All that grumbling.”

“Elsie,” he huffed. Turning on his side, he smiled at her as he reached up to caress the hair from her cheek. “You know that I would do anything for you.”

“I do.”

“And you know that I care about Isobel as if she were a sister. I always have. I did grumble, and I still think it’s ridiculous, but I was glad to help them. Richard deserves a wife that loves him, that isn’t using him. And Isobel deserves to have someone in her life again that wants to spend time with her.” Charles snarled. “And doesn’t have insanely rude children.”

Elsie chuckled, knowing that Charles had hated Dickie Grey as much as she had. “Oh Charlie. They’re off in America far, far away.”

“In Neverland.”

Elsie laughed and leaned forward to kiss him. “I love you, you daft buggar.”

“I love you, my blue eyed witch.” He winked at her.

Elsie rolled her eyes. Her husband hadn’t called her that in years. “Now, now, Mr. Carson. Well have none of that. No ghosts, no witches. It’s Christmas.”

“Sounds like you’ve said that before.” Charles teased her.

“I have. I told Isobel the same thing.”

“Except there _was_ a ghost and a witch,” he reminded her, knowing that the wedding hadn’t been just a simple ceremony, that his wife had used some sort of spell or incantation or some such thing. He’d seen the look in Richard and Isobel’s eyes after they’d parted from their first kiss as husband and wife. He’d also detected a difference in Richard. “What did you do?”

Elsie sighed and shrugged. Now she supposed she knew that he believed her. “I just fixed it so that once they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, Richard would be mortal again.”

“Isobel knew you were a witch?”

“She guessed and I neither confirmed or denied, but when Richard didn’t disappear as we all thought he would, I asked if he wanted to be mortal again, suspecting that he might so that he wouldn’t outlive Isobel and be left behind all over again. They talked it over and decided that was what they wanted. I just had to find a way to make it happen. I didn’t find anything until just a few weeks ago.”

“So that’s why you wanted me specifically.”

Elsie smiled. “Well, there was that, but it was also because I love you and thought you would make a dashing officiant.”

Charles shook his head. “Cheeky.” Nuzzling her neck, he nipped gently at the soft skin. “Care to repeat our activities of a few moments ago? I’m rather tired of talking about our friends.”

“Mmm,” she hummed when his hand found a particularly sensitive spot. “Sounds lovely.”

 

~*~

 

“You’ve made me a very happy man, Mrs. Clarkson.” Richard whispered as he unpinned her hair, placing the pins on the night table.

Isobel closed her eyes and just let herself feel as Richard finished taking her hair down and gently combed it out with his fingers. She’d always had a thing for a man messing about with her hair. Reggie had learned that early on and so had Richard, though he had told her he did it because he’d wanted to feel how soft her hair was not because he’d somehow known she liked it.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her neck, his hand cradling the back of her head. Richard gently nipped at the lobe of her ear before tracing the shell with the tip of his tongue. Once he’d had a taste of her, he couldn’t seem to get enough. “I didn’t think anything could be better than last Christmas, but I was wrong. You’ve made me so very happy, Lass.”

Isobel chuckled as she nuzzled his neck with her nose. “Lass,” she whispered just before kissing his ear. “I’m far from a lass.”

Richard shook his head then cupped her cheek. “You’re my lass, my wife, my heart…my life,” he breathed.

Feeling tears prick her eyes, Isobel slid her hand up around his neck, curling her fingers into his hair. “I love you, Richard Clarkson.”


End file.
